


i'll paint you a clear blue sky

by MistyMoon



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-08
Updated: 2015-12-08
Packaged: 2018-05-05 16:24:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5381957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistyMoon/pseuds/MistyMoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You don't win this time, no.<br/>All there's left now are loud voices, sweaty hands and crushed hopes.<br/>And it's all because of you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i'll paint you a clear blue sky

**Author's Note:**

> this is liike my first time writing haiykuu so if the characters come out ooc im rlly sorry abt that oh man i tried  
> also @troye sivan stop making songs that remind me of my son's suffering dammit  
> (kind of unbeta'd so if there are any mistakes let me kno)

The ball touches the floor and with that, you lose. You can feel the happiness, feel the feeling of greatness coming from your opponents.  
The same cannot be said for your teammates.  
The disappointment in their eyes says it all. They didn't expect to lose, didn't expect they'd become this bad in such short time. It's the third time you lose and they're not taking it well, not at all.  
Your tosses were off; Bokuto could barely spike them in the last two games, now less than ever. The rest of the team was trying their best, and yet you didn't seem to help. You were only slowing them down, making Bokuto miss, making them lose.  
You were making them a worse team. There was nothing you could do to fix your mistakes now; you could train more, but what good would that do if you were going to put on the bench anyway, which was the best solution, given the way you were playing.  
The pain and the guilt hit you with full force. Memories flooded your mind - screams, curses, insults, forced smiles, the cold feeling of razor blades against your thigh - and the endless gym felt like a small box. You breathed with difficulty and your eyes stung so badly you felt like they were burning. The screams of victory, the words of encouragement, they were no longer audible.  
You wanted to curl up in a corner and cease to exist.  
  
You were visibly shaking, and your lungs screamed for air (air air air air, you kept repeating, as if begging for it to fill your lungs) which wasn't coming, and the more you wasted it, the more you felt the need to fall to your knees, to give up on holding back.  
You are weak, you are useless, you can't even toss properly, you cannot give the team all of yourself, you can't be a team member if you don't act like it. You cannot be like them if you cannot make them win, you cannot give tosses that will help the team, you cannot help the team in any way, you are dead weight. They don't need you, they can succeed on their own, they'd be better off without you, _you're only slowing them down, Keiji_.  
Your chest feels tight, and there is absolutely no way you're breathing right now. Your legs are almost giving out and your throat is holding so many screams, so many sobs back that you don't think you'll manage.  
You feel the burn in your eyes more than anything, and it's asking you, it's _begging_ you to give out, to just fall apart and release all the pain, all the guilt from inside.  
But you _can't_. You just can't bring yourself to do it, not in front of the team, not in front of anyone. They can never see you like this; they cannot see you hopeless, defeated, like there's no salvation for anyone. Even though that's how you felt most of the time, all they saw were blank faces and a silver tongue that hid so many messy thoughts and emotions, you're still not sure how you managed. Maybe the fear fueled you. Maybe you knew they needed some kind of support that wouldn't be affected by losses or wins, someone who could stay calm during extreme situations.  
You thought you could do it, you thought it wouldn't affect you, you thought it would never end up like this, you thought so many things wouldn't happen.  
And yet they did, and once again, you were wrong.  
  
There's a hand on your shoulder and it brings you back to reality. You're in the locker room and everyone already went home. There was only you and him left there. He was saying something, asking you if you were alright, probably. But you were on the edge, one single thought, one single word, one single blow, and all your walls would crumble and you'd be vulnerable and someone, anyone, _everyone_ would take advantage of that, because they always do, they always fucking do, they'll never leave you alone again, you'll never be at peace, they won't let you rebuild your walls, you'll never be safe again, you'll never be inside your walls again, you'll hurt yourself, you'll hurt them, you'll hurt everyone around, you're a walking fucking bomb just waiting to explode and you can't handle it you can't, you can't, you just-  
  
"Keiji."  
  
You break.  
  
You don't fall to your knees like you thought you would (maybe it's because he's holding you, but you can never be sure), but you can't stop crying and you're using all the control you have left not to scream. There is so much inside trying to escape, you can't stop the words from slipping out of your mouth and suddenly you're talking. You're exposing all of your thoughts to him, and you've never felt this vulnerable in your entire life, but you can't care, because there's someone holding you (koutarou it's koutarou it's always koutarou) and his arms are protecting you from anything and everything and they're like the walls you had, but so much better and so much safer. He's holding you tightly, and one of his hands is holding your hand close to his chest and you can hear his heartbeat while you completely soak his shirt.  
  
You're falling apart, yes, but he's trying to put you back together and that's all that matters right now.  
  
Your voice cracks and your throat feels dry and your thoughts are running a marathon without any kind of path for them to follow, and they're confusing and messy and it hurts to think, to try to understand them. You can only breathe, and even that requires some willpower.  
  
"Keiji," he whispers, carefully, as if hesitant to speak "it wasn't your fault."  
You want to scream, tell him that yes, _yes_ it was your fault, it's always your fault.  
"I'm sorry." is all you can offer him, because you are, you always are.  
"Don't be."  
And then, your legs decide that it's the perfect moment for them to stop supporting you. You're falling to your knees, but he's falling with you (when hasn't he, when hasn't he been with you at the bottom of the well and at the very top) and when your knees hit the floor, you start crying again. All he does is hold you tight while you do it and his arms feel so _safe_.  
Your walls might stop you from falling apart, but now, you have someone to catch you when you do (you always did, he was always there to catch you no matter what, you just never saw it).  
  
Minutes pass, and, slowly, you stop crying. You're both silent, and he's stroking your hair while his head is resting on yours.  
"We should go home." he backs away a little, enough to look you in the eye. "You can stay at my place, if you want."  
"I'd appreciate that, Bokuto-san."  
"Koutarou." he corrects you, and you can see what looks like the beginning of a smile on his face.  
"Koutarou." you repeat.  
  
He helped you get up, and, after briefly explaining to his mom the situation ("we, uhm, lost a match, that's all."), you went to his room. He didn't say anything, just lied with you in his bed in silence. He was holding your hand, stroking it with his thumb.  
"You're not going to stay in the bench, you know." he propped himself on his elbows, looking directly at you. "Okay, maybe we lost three games because I couldn't hit most of your tosses, but that doesn't mean you're horrible at volleyball. It just means you need more practice." He stopped for a second, before smiling and continuing his sentence "More practice with me, your excellent spiker and boyfriend."  
"I wouldn't exactly say _excellent_..."  
The look on his face was priceless "I feel so offended right now, Keiji."  
"Good. Maybe that'll get you off your high horse."  
Before he could answer, his mom asked you both to come downstairs to eat.  
"This isn't over yet, Akaashi." he announced, before rushing downstairs.  
  
It was late when he finally fell asleep. He looked so peaceful, so calm, he almost didn't look like his loud, excited self. He was holding you, your back against his chest, and his breathing made your neck tickle slightly.  
Today was a hard day, but it's been too long since someone supported you like he did (he knew how high your expectations of yourself were, he knew how hard you judged yourself, but he never saw you truly breaking) and you've never trusted someone enough to let them see it. You've never trusted someone like you trust him.  
  
Being at the bottom of the well is a horrible feeling, yes, but it feels less terrifying when you don't have to get back up by yourself.

**Author's Note:**

> whispers hey hey you you i have a [tumblr](http://aromanticronan.tumblr.com)


End file.
